Bad Medicine
by Snake in the Grass
Summary: Is it right to steal a boy's passion in order to make him live up to his potential? Leon's not so sure. A story of artificial remedies, free will, and a forbidden kind of love that society condemns. RikuLeon AU, teacherstudent sort of thing.
1. Dumb and Horny

Disclaimer: Doesn't belong to me.

Yet another multi-chapter Kingdom Hearts fic. I know, I know, I shouldn't be taking on another big project at this point, but this one won't be anywhere as long as Mansion. It's definitely darker and will actually attempt to hold a bit of meaning. There will, of course, also be plenty of tasty smut.

I swear to god, I am working on Mansion by the Sea, and it should be up in a few days, with a scene that a lot of readers have been waiting for. But in the meantime, check this out.

Enjoy!

Chapter 1

Dumb and Horny

* * *

I rolled over, blinking furiously and wondering what had woken me. A moment later I heard the tinny ringing of my cell phone, the blue light blinking at me from across the room. It was a generic ringtone, boring and anonymous. I wasn't the kind of guy who customized.

Sitting up, I rubbed my eyes and scratched a hand through my lank hair. A hand clenched onto my knee, but I brushed it aside. The lump sleeping next to me muttered something and rolled over. I scooted myself along on my knees, reaching out toward the bureau, snagging the phone with the tips of my fingers.

"What?" I demanded, voice thick with sleep. Phone protocol wasn't to be expected at three in the morning.

There was a slight pause, nothing but static, and I almost hung up. But then a voice spoke up, thin and frightened even through the awful connection.

"M-Mr. Leonhart?"

I frowned. "Yeah. Who's this?"

"Sora Kingsbrook—f-from third block Modern Philosophy?"

"I know who you are, Sora." Students always seemed to assume that just because we weren't in school, I automatically blocked them out. I wish. "Is something wrong?"

"No!" Sora said, and it must have been an automatic response, because a moment later he rectified it. "Yeah, there is, I mean…you have a car right?"

"Yeah," I said, not much liking where this was going.

"Do you know where the North Street Port is?"

"Yes," I said, managing to keep most of the distaste out of my voice. The North Street Port was advertised as the bad part of a town, and it lived up to its name: a scattering of nightclubs, titty bars, and brothels. The police had made an attempt to clean it out a couple of years ago, resulting in several cop killings and about a dozen more threats. Now the attitude had become 'don't ask, don't tell'.

"What the heck are you doing down there, Kingsbrook?"

"I c-came with Riku," Sora stuttered, by way of explanation.

I racked my brains. "The platinum blonde?"

"S-silver, actually, but it doesn't matter. He's in a lot of trouble, Mr. Leonhart, and I don't know what to do."

"Why don't you call his parents?"

"He doesn't have any, just an aunt who's probably so drunk at this point she couldn't drive."

"What about your parents, Kingsbrook?"

"T-they're out of town. Please, Mr. Leonhart, I don't know what to do!"

I almost told him to call the police, but if I thought about it realistically, I knew there would be no point. Sora wouldn't do it, and anyway, it would most likely make the situation worse.

"I'll be there in ten minutes. Be careful."

Sora stammered his thanks and hung up.

I snapped the phone shut, rubbing my eyes and blowing my breath out in an agitated sigh. Why me?

"What was that about?" came a voice through the hazy darkness.

"Don't worry about it, Cloud, just something I got to help a student with. Go back to sleep."

Cloud muttered something that sounded like "I'll eat the toaster" but probably hadn't been. He buried himself back in the blankets.

* * *

As I backed out of the driveway, I cast my mind around for memories of Riku. Silver hair, Sora had said. Silver hair…it wasn't that common. Riku Erickson? Yeah, that sounded about right. There was a Riku Erickson in my fourth block class, some kid with way too much eyeliner and an unwillingness to just accept that punk was dead. He never said anything, just sat in the back doodling. I don't think he'd ever raised his hand once since the semester started.

Another fucking burn out. Great.

The drive to the North Street Port took longer than I'd expected—who knew there would be traffic at three o'clock in the morning? The place was still crowded and alive this time of night, swarming with people and nearly screaming 'bad idea. You don't want to be here!'

I turned onto the street closest to the water, and caught sight of Sora, waving his arms back and forth and jumping up and down. The people on the sidewalk were looking at him like he'd sprouted a second head. I parallel parked and climbed out of my car, checking twice to make sure it was locked. I knew that wouldn't stop a particularly determined vandal, but I didn't plan on being inside for too long.

"Where's your friend, Kingsbrook?"

Sora didn't belong in this place, that much was certain. He was small and skinny, with spiky brown hair that looked like it had never seen a comb. His eyes were big and blue, and though they usually radiated with sincerity, they were wide and scared today. That, more than anything set him apart from the rest of the pile.

"H-He's in here," Sora said, relief washing over his face, as if he believed that, now that the grown up was here, everything would be fine. I didn't think I deserved that kind of blind confidence, but I didn't make an effort to disenchant him.

I didn't catch the name of the club as we walked in, but the moment the door opened I was struck in the face by a wave of sound and energy. The music was so loud the base echoed through my chest, forcing my heart to beat along with it. It was dark inside, flashing lights creating a strobe effect that distorted everything and made me feel dizzy as Sora and I waded inside, skirting the dance floor. Sora slipped ahead, leading the way toward the back.

A woman in a short pink skirt wobbled up to me on three inch heels. She threw her arms around my waist, turning alcohol-fogged eyes up at me.

"Hey, baby, you wanna fuck me?"

I pushed her back a little, not wanting her to drool on my T-shirt. "Not particularly," I said, detaching her from my torso and turning back to Sora.

"Let's go," I said irritably.

Sora nodded, continuing to the back and going through a door marked 'staff only'.

The back room smelled like pot and cheap vodka. There was nothing inside but a black couch, stuffing bleeding from wounds in its sides. A bare lightbulb cast a dirty yellow glow over a scene that made my stomach curl.

There was a kid draped over the couch, head tipped back, silver hair spilling over the arm. His eyes were closed, face turned up. He was a good-looking kid, even completely fucked up and passed out. He had to be the only remotely attractive part of the situation, because the rest was just downright rank.

There were too other guys on the couch, one with blonde dreadlocks and a dirty wife beater, the other a redhead dressed all in leather. They were both around my age, I guessed, and they were both pawing over the kid like he was a brand new toy. The one with dreadlocks was rubbing his hands over a smooth bare chest, like he was reading brail. The guy in the leather had his pants unbuttoned, kneeling between the kid's naked thighs. It didn't look like he'd done anything yet, but I wasn't anxious to see what was next.

"Get the fuck off him," I growled. Sora looked at me, shocked. Despite the situation, I nearly laughed.

The two guys barely glanced up. Leather was gripping the kid by the legs, raising his ass up off the couch. The kid was hard, but that was no reason to assume he was enjoying himself.

"Hey!" I yelled. "You hear me, assholes? Get the fuck off the kid."

Dreadlocks finally looked up. His eyes were glazed over with something more than alcohol. He was flying, alright.

"Calm down, fucker," he slurred. "Ya wan' a piece of 'im too?"

"Me first," Leather mumbled, rearing up on his knees.

Enough was enough. I let a fist fly into Leather's face. The guy choked, falling off the couch, pulling the silver-haired boy with him.

"Riku!" Sora yelled, finally daring to run to his friend. Riku blinked, raising his head groggily.

"Get the fuck out of here!" I hissed, voice as low and dangerous as I could make it. The two guys looked at each other, then slunk out. I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. If they'd both decided to fight me, I wasn't sure if I could have taken them. Luckily, they'd been like most rapists. Cowards.

"Get his pants back on," I said, kneeling down next to the boy and zipping his black vest up. His pale chest was covered in bite marks and little sores.

"They were burning him with cigarette butts," Sora said, voice empty of emotion, but I could see the shame in his eyes. He'd stood there and let them do all of this to his friend.

"You did the right thing, Sora," I said, feeling a little awkward. I wasn't good at this comforting shit. "They would have hurt you too."

Sora didn't answer. He was busy pulling up Riku's tight jeans and buttoning the fly. The boy groaned slightly as his erection was forced back into his pants, eyes fluttering. He didn't smell like alcohol.

"Special K," I muttered.

"What?" Sora asked, his voice an octave higher than usual.

"Ketamine," I said, my disgust plain. "The date rape drug. Did he have a drink?"

The whites were showing around Sora's pupils. "I think he had a beer," he answered.

"Someone put something in his drink," I explained, picking Riku up, relived to see he wasn't completely limp. "Goddamn it, I thought he was just drunk."

"Is…" Sora swallowed. "Is he gonna be alright?"

"He should be," I answered. "But I think he should go to the emergency room, anyway."

Sora's eyes widened. "No! No…he'll test positive for… some drugs…besides the ketamine."

I straightened up, Riku in his arms, one hand curling around his bicep. "What were you guys smoking?" I sniffed.

Sora shook his head, making his spikes bounce. "Pot, just pot, nothing dangerous. Please don't take him to the hospital."

"Sora, do you want your friend to die?"

"I won't die," came a hoarse, lazy voice. "I just need to sleep it off."

I looked down at the boy in his arms. "How the hell are you awake?"

"It wasn't Ketamine," Riku mumbled, eyes fluttering. "It was something else, I've seen them use it before. It just makes you dumb and horny." The boy smiled. "That feels good. Rub harder."

I jumped. My hand was nestled between his legs. I slid it away, settling on grabbing his ass instead. The lesser evil.

"Where do you live, Erickson?" I asked.

Riku jerked his head back and forth, and it took me a moment to realize he was shaking his head 'no'.

"Can't go home…aunt kill me. Jus' leave me here."

"No fucking way," I said. "Those freaks will come back. Can he stay with you, Kingsbrook?"

Sora shook his head furiously again. "No. My housekeeper will call the police."

I had to hold back an angry exclamation. I didn't need this. "Alright, he can stay with me. I'll drop you off, Sora."

"Thanks, Mr. Leonhart. You're a great teacher."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, yeah."

* * *

I stumbled into the house at four o'clock in the morning, my arms still full of fucked up teenage boy. Riku hadn't spoken for much of the ride, though he'd answered questions whenever I'd asked them, mostly to see if the kid was still alive. His limbs still weren't functioning correctly, and his little _problem _hadn't gone away.

I could see it clearly, straining against the front of his pants. Dumb and horny was right.

"What the fuck is that?"

I glanced up, embarrassed I'd been staring at the kid's crotch. My boyfriend, Cloud Strife, was standing at the foot of the stairs. He was wearing nothing but boxers, his spiky blonde hair tousled from sleep, and if I hadn't had a juvenile delinquent to deal with, I probably would have jumped him right there.

As it were, I just answered, "Student."

"What's wrong with him?" Cloud asked, following me into the living room while I lay Riku on the couch.

"You're the med student. You tell me."

Cloud frowned, going to his knees beside the couch. He put a hand on the kid's forehead. Riku's eyes fluttered open, focusing on Cloud.

"Hey, sexy," he muttered.

Cloud let out a surprised laugh. "He's drugged as fuck, Leon."

"Is that a medical term?" I asked, helping him to his feet. "Do you know what the drug is?"

"Not without a blood test. You should take him to the hospital."

I made a rather desperate gesture. "He doesn't want me to."

"Well, that sucks to be him, Leon, 'cause he could die." Cloud looked very serious. "It doesn't matter what he wants."

* * *

So…what do you think? Anybody want me to continue? If so, the next chapter will probably be up in a couple of days. This is going to be an odd mix of romance, drama, and even some sci-fi mixed in there. 


	2. I'm Going To Hell

Thanks for all the great respose, guys! I'm gonna continue this one, and I'm really excited about it!

Chapter 2

"I'm Going To Hell"

* * *

I narrowed my eyes. I was angry, and I desperately wanted to take that anger out on someone, but I tried to keep my voice under control as I said, "He told me he wasn't in any danger. He said the drug just made him dumb and horny."

Realization spread over Cloud's face. He stood up, shaking his head and making a disgusted sound in the back of his throat. "He took goddamn Phantom, Leon."

"Phantom?" I repeated. "What the hell is that?"

"The street name of the newest cocktail drug in Hollow Bastion. Too much of it will kill you, like any drug, but a little just makes you limp and ridiculously aroused. It's typically for gang bangs. One person takes it, and everyone else fucks them."

I made a face. "What about gang _rape_?" I asked.

Riku echoed me, sounding delirious. "Yeah, what about gang _rape_, baby?"

Cloud shook his head. "Not usually. It's damn expensive, and if you want to knock someone out you can use Ecstasy or Ketamine. I mean, you don't have to arouse someone to rape them."

I nodded. I was beginning to wonder what the fuck had really been going on back in the club. Maybe I'd crashed a party Riku had actually been enjoying.

"So…what do we do with him?" I asked tiredly. I was guessing he'd just need to sleep it off, but Cloud was suddenly scratching his head uncomfortably.

"Uh…about that…"

"Cloud?" I prompted, my voice a warning.

We both looked at Riku. His light, amused mumbling had turned to whimpering, and he was writhing on his back. Well, as much as he could writhe. His muscles still didn't seem to be working right. The look on his face was pained and frightening.

"What's wrong with him?" I demanded.

Cloud knelt back down next to him. "By any chance, do you think the kid managed to get off at all before you got there?"

"Huh?" I grunted, wondering if I'd heard correctly.

"Had he gotten off? Had he cum? The drug needs to be emptied out of his system. That's how you release Phantom."

"You're telling me I have jerk my student off?"

"Basically." Cloud cracked a wry grin. "At least he's cute."

I had to agree with him there, however grudgingly. The silvery hair was one of the most interesting colors I'd ever seen on a man, and the boy's pink lips looked inviting, parted as they were, letting out delicate little whimpers. His body was at that slender state between adolescence and adulthood. Absolutely gorgeous.

"I can't," I said after a moment. "I can't touch my student. That would just be…unprofessional."

Cloud snorted. "Unprofessional is right. But something's got to get the drug out of him, Leon, or he'll end up with prostatic congestion."

I raised an eyebrow. "Say what?"

"Blue balls."

"Oh," I said. Whatever. I wasn't a fucking health teacher.

"Do you want me to do it?" Cloud asked.

I squeezed my eyes shut. "Yes."

Cloud nodded simply, as if I hadn't just asked him to touch a seventeen year old. He knelt back down in front of the couch, pulling Riku's shirt up and unzipping his fly. His dick popped out like it was on a spring, red and painful-looking.

I ran my fingers through my hair, wondering if I should leave the room. The only thing worse than having to watch your boyfriend jerk off one of your students is actually wanting to watch your boyfriend jerk off one of your students.

"Jesus, he's hard," Cloud commented.

I groaned. "Could you not say shit like that, maybe?"

Cloud glanced back at me, blue eyes wide with confusion. It was like the doctor in him didn't really see what my problem was. Someone needed to be treated, and he'd do it, didn't matter what it was. I flatly refused to let myself watch—forced my eyes down to the pale carpeting. Of course, I couldn't block out the sound of Cloud's hand moving on hard, wet flesh, or the little whimpers that began at once and became constant.

I couldn't help it, I had to look up. Riku's eyes were open, but he wasn't looking at Cloud. Those sea-green, unfocused pupils were trained right on me. His face was creased by something that looked more akin to pain than pleasure. It didn't take very long before he let out a strangled shout, face scrunching up. Then everything loosened, the tension draining from his neck and shoulders and his expression turning to one of vague satisfaction.

He muttered a curse, slowly lifting a hand to run it through his hair. He only got about halfway before exhaustion seemed to take over. His arm fell across his chest and his luminous eyes slipped shut.

Cloud rose to his feet. "I'm gonna go clean up." He glanced back down at Riku's sleeping form. "You should get him some blankets or something."

He didn't meet my eyes.

What? What was wrong with him suddenly? Was he maybe bothered that he'd been turned on by jerking Riku off? Or had he realized how turned on I had been just thinking about it?

I tried to put the thought out my mind, but it gnawed at me as I covered Riku with a dark blue blanket from the closet beside the laundry room, turned out the light, and retreated up the stairs. Cloud was still in the bathroom when I opened the door to our room. Technically, it was _my _room—Cloud had one down the hall. The two of us had moved into this house about a year and a half ago, originally intending to be roommates. Just roommates. That had been blown to hell in about forty-eight hours. Cloud had apparently been unable to prevent himself from climbing into the shower with me, and it had all taken off from there.

I had no idea how much longer it was going to last. I was going to Traverse Town for my Master's in two weeks, and Cloud wasn't coming with me. His med-school was here, in Hollow Bastion.

The odd part was that I didn't feel too bad about this. As strange as it sounds, I felt more guilty for not caring that I was leaving, than I was over the leaving itself.

I collapsed into bed, not bothering to untwist the sheets. It was nearly five o'clock in the goddamn morning, and I had to be at the high school at seven-thirty. I had no idea what I was going to do with Riku. He probably wouldn't be in any shape to go into class, but I couldn't just leave Mr. Juvenile Delinquent alone in my house.

I sighed, rolling onto my side as the bathroom door opened, spilling a rectangle of light over me for a moment, before Cloud flipped the switch. We were plunged into forgiving darkness. I felt him spoon up against my back, tucking his chin into the curve of my shoulder.

"You did really good, Leon," he muttered in my ear. "I'm glad you got to that kid in time."

"Yeah," I said distractedly.

I don't know what it was, but I just couldn't shake the feeling whatever I had done tonight had opened a door to a dark, crazy world. One I wouldn't be able to escape without some internal scarring.

* * *

When I woke up two hours later, Cloud was already gone. His first class on Fridays was a biology lab, and it began around seven. I rubbed my eyes with the back of my hands, rolling out of bed and stumbling to the bathroom.

I took one look in the mirror and groaned. I looked like shit, really and truly. There were dark half-moons under my eyes, a reminder of the sleep I hadn't gotten the night before. My hair, which was currently in desperate need of a trim, was lank and tangled. That's what happened when you had long hair and don't put a shitload of product in it. Cloud had hair that was fucking ridiculous—I had no idea what he did to make it stick up like that.

I showered for a good quarter of an hour, letting the almost too-hot water wash away the knots in my back and shoulders, all the stress I'd amounted last night. It had been odd, to say the very least. That was something no teacher ever wanted to see his student mixed up in. Whether or not said teacher was currently having less than professional thoughts about said student was completely erroneous to the point.

When I finally stomped down the stairs, in a pair of jeans and a black T-shirt (casual Friday) I was already running late. I swore, making a beeline for the kitchen and the coffee maker. I froze in the doorway.

Riku was sitting at my kitchen table, feet up, paper opened to the _Politics _section. He was currently sipping from a dark blue mug with a gold Hollow Bastion University logo on it. My mug.

"Morning, teach," he greeted me without looking up. "Did you know the government is fucked?"

I decided not to ask until I'd had my coffee. At least then I'd be more likely to keep my temper. I substituted my usual mug with a red one, deciding I'd take the stuff black this morning. Riku turned a page of the paper and I glanced back at him finally, not really wanting to deal with this.

His hair was tousled and he was a little pale, but apart from that he looked quite normal. Not at all like someone who'd been on drugs and almost ass-raped the night before. He was still wearing the tight, slightly stained jeans from the night before, though he'd discarded his black vest and was now in one of Cloud's older T-shirts. Cloud might have given it to him on his way out the door, or maybe he'd just taken the initiative and dug it out of the wash.

"Riku—," I began, but I was promptly cut off as he put down the paper and asked:

"Do you have any peanut butter?"

I opened and closed my mouth a couple times. "Huh?"

"I'm craving peanut butter. And powdered donuts." He frowned. "Weird, huh?"

I took another gulp of coffee. I didn't have the time to delve into the inner workings of Riku Erickson's issues.

"I need to get to class, Riku. You coming with me or not?"

He set the paper down and stretched. "Yeah, sure. Lemme get my shoes."

It was almost unnerving just how normal Riku was behaving. I don't know what I had been expecting, possibly a foul-mouthed, authority hating, inept son of a bitch. In other words, a stereotype.

But apart from fucking with my radio pre-sets, Riku just kicked back in the front seat of my car, tapping a finger against the window and singing along quietly to the Ramones. I couldn't stop myself from glancing over at him from time to time, stealing quick looks of his profile whenever I paused at stop signs and red lights.

"Your hair's a disaster," I said after a few minutes, and about halfway to the high school.

Riku flipped down the visor mirror and grimaced. "Yeah. Looks like I got fucked pretty good."

I didn't know what to say to that, partly because he was my student and partly because, well…what did you say to that? I wondered if he remembered what had happened the night before. If he did, he didn't seem to be particularly bothered by it. Maybe it happened a lot.

Whatever the case, the drug had apparently been washed out of his system by now. The only evidence that he had partied hard the night before were the darkish circles under his eyes and the bite marks covering the left side of his neck and collarbone.

I desperately wanted to say something teacherly and wise to him, but all I could come up with was, "You okay?"

Riku glanced over at me. His eyes were more green than blue now that I could see them in the daylight.

"What? Oh, sure. No problem." He smiled easily, like he was trying to reassure a skittish animal. "Thanks, by the way."

"For?" I wanted to hear him say it, even if I knew exactly what it was I'd done for him.

"A place to crash. My aunt would have freaked out if I'd come home like that. Of course, she was most likely already drunk off her ass," he added as an afterthought.

"No problem," I said grudgingly. "Is that all?"

The flavor of Riku's smile shifted slightly. "I'd say thanks for the handjob, but I wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable or anything."

I forced my eyes to remain on the road. From Riku's tone I could tell there wasn't anything more in the world he wanted than to make me feel uncomfortable. And by god, it was working. It wasn't just that he was nearly a decade younger than me, he was my student, for Christ sake. I was his teacher, an authority figure. Someone he should be able to _trust._

"You should be thanking Cloud, not me," I said gruffly, turning into the school parking lot. "He's the one who did it. He said it was, uh, necessary."

"And how necessary it was," Riku mused, his eyes now scanning the swarm of students ambling across the crosswalk. "Thanks for the ride, Leon," he said, using the nickname only my closest friends used. Before I could say anything, he was bounding out of the car, waving his arms at a skinny, redheaded boy smoking a cigarette beneath the 'Drugfree School Zone' sign.

"Hey, Axel, you asswipe! Where the fuck were you last night?"

He slammed the door shut and I watched as he ambled across the grass to his friend. He moved with a kind of casual elegance, something some don't achieve until well into their college years, and most don't achieve at all. I was so engrossed with watching him that I didn't notice the crosswalk was clear, until the car behind me honked loudly. I glanced in my rearview mirror, sighing as I recognized the vice principal.

Great, just what I needed. The administration catching me staring at my student's ass.

* * *

The school day was a bit on the surreal side. I marched into my classroom about two seconds before the bell rang, greeted with some enthusiastic cajoling. Students just love it when you're lazier than they are. My first class was Ancient and Medieval Philosophy, and it was level B, meaning only upper classman who've passed Intro to Philosophy can take it.

Riku was in my last class of the day, Modern History. Unsurprisingly, he didn't show. Sora seemed concerned.

"Is he okay?" he practically gasped as soon as the final bell had rung.

I raised an eyebrow. "He seemed fine. I brought him in with me this morning, but it looks like he may have cut."

Sora sank into a desk in the front row, burying his hands in his spiky hair. His lips were drawn together in a pout, his face the picture of adorable anguish. "I don't know what's gonna happen to him, Mr. Leonhart! I mean, he's failing every class but art, he smokes like a pack a day, and he's always going off and fu—." He gave me a slightly apologetic look. "Always off having sex with—people."

I was almost certain he was about to say 'guys', but at the last moment had thought better of it. I don't know why. It was an established fact that I was the only homosexual on the staff. They'd wanted me to head the goddamn GSA for chrissake. I didn't go in for all that stuff, but I could definitely understand going out and fucking guys. I'd done it on a regular basis myself in the wild days of my youth. Right.

"The drugs aren't a good idea, Sora," I agreed, "And I'd really like it if his grades were better, but there isn't really anything I can do. You're his best friend. If you think what he's doing is wrong, make him stop."

Sora looked at me for a few moments, eyes wide, as if trying to figure out what I was all about. Finally, he said, "It's not that simple."

I crossed my arms over my chest. "I didn't say it was simple, I didn't even say it was necessary. Far be it for me to tell anyone what they should and shouldn't do."

Shaking his head a little, Sora gave me an almost incredulous look. "You sure are a philosophy teacher, Mr. Leonhart." He hitched his backpack up on one shoulder, leaving me to ponder whether or not that was a good thing.

I had just finished packing together my stuff for the weekend. I'd closed the blinds and turned back to lock my desk drawer, when I was greeted by a not altogether unexpected guest.

"Hey, Leon."

Riku had kicked back in my desk chair, feet up, one hand behind his head, the other tapping a lit cigarette. I nearly groaned.

"Erickson, I appreciate that you're a rebel, but in the name of god put out the damn cigarette. If I can't smoke in here, you can't."

Riku raised a silver eyebrow. "Ooh, cute and tough," he crooned, blowing out smoke.

"Riku…" I warned in my best disciplinary voice which, according to Cloud, was pretty weak.

"Okay, okay," Riku laughed, taking one last drag. He pressed the tip of the cigarette to his bare palm, pain not even registering on his face. It left a round, shiny red mark to match the ones on his chest. Could I now add masochism to Riku's list of little oddities?

"What are you doing here?" I asked tiredly. "It's after hours. If you're not even going to be here for my class I'd prefer you didn't show your face at all."

"Aw, you're just saying that 'cause they make you." Riku put his other hand behind his head, now the picture of luxuriant repose. "You really do want me around."

"Oh yeah, why's that?" I tried for bored and succeeded. I hoped.

Riku smirked casually at me. "Because I'm sexy as hell and the best eye candy you're liable to get all day."

"Cocky," I commented.

"You have no idea."

True, my stomach was bubbling embarrassingly at the sight of Riku tossed so wantonly over my desk chair, but otherwise I was unimpressed. The kid was practically throwing himself at me. We could both get into serious shit for this. I could see it in his eyes, the way he was just daring me to take him up on the offer, to bend him over my desk and fuck that sexy little ass until—

I swallowed. It was official. I'm going to hell.

I sighed. "Okay, Riku. I'll see you next—."

He jumped up out of my chair, brushing cigarette ash off his pants. "Wanna give me a ride home?"

"Not particularly," I answered, hefting my bag onto my shoulder and brushing my hair back behind my ears. "But I don't suppose you're going to let that stop you?"

He grinned. "You already know me way too well. Shall we?" He offered me his arm. I snorted, ignoring it and leading the way down the hall.

* * *

End of chapter two! Reviews are greatly appreciated!! 


	3. Studio Space

Hey! Next chapter! I hope you all enjoy.

Oh, just a note. Even though I'm calling the town Hollow Bastion, and I'll use other names from the game, this story is still taking place somewhere in the USA. This is my native country, so I know it best. There are gonna be a lot of pop culture references in this story, just by its nature, so that's why I decided to have it take place in a country I'm familiar with.

So if anyone doesn't get something, 'cause I make some weird American reference, just ask, and I'll answer. Though I can't really see that happening, as America mostly just steals and alters other countries' culture. Which could be seen as a good or bad thing, but let's get on with story before I get too political.

Chapter 3

Studio Space

* * *

Riku sat in the passenger seat, feet up on the dashboard, holding a cigarette between the tips of his thumb and forefinger, like you'd hold a joint. He'd offered one to me, and my weak constitution had been unable to resist. I couldn't smoke around Cloud—the doctor in him insisted upon rolling his eyes and lecturing me until I put the damn thing out.

My car was one of the last in the parking lot. People got the hell off campus fast, especially on Fridays. I took a drag as I turned the key, engine roaring to life. The smoke hit the back of my throat, and I spluttered.

"Riku, what the hell are you doing smoking reds? Marlboro's disgusting."

Riku looked faintly impressed. "Good call. Don't know many teachers who can identify a brand of cigarettes by taste alone."

I put the car in gear, waiting for a break in traffic before pulling out onto Campus Drive. Why was it that every road with a school on it had to be named something like that? What was next, Learning Lane?

"You'd be surprised how many teachers smoke, Riku."

"Probably not." He switched the radio on, settling on a folk-sounding song that could have been Joni Mitchell. "I'm not surprised by much anymore."

I snorted, before realizing he was being serious. His hair was glimmering in the slanted afternoon sun, making him looking vaguely unreal. "Turn right up here," he said, tapping his cigarette into the ash tray. He hummed along to the radio, every so often throwing in a couple of lines of lyrics, as if he only remembered sections of the song.

…_I started analyzing, _

_And I brought on my old ways, _

_A thunderhead of judgment was _

_Gathering in my gaze._

I'd never been really spent much time in the section of the city he was directing me threw. It was the art district, more commonly known as East Side. Street performers and artists lined the sidewalks, strumming on guitars or calling out to any passerby that looked like they might appreciate surrealist painting or hand-beaded bags. The graffiti down here was angry and political, much more colorful and impressive than anywhere else in the city.

"It's a left at the end of the street," Riku said, pointing with his stub of a cigarette, tapping his foot in time with the music.

_It made most people nervous, _

_They just didn't want to know_

_What I was seeing _

_In the refuge of the roads. _

"You like Joni Mitchell," I observed, flicking on my turn signal and waiting for a group of beatnik looking teenagers to mosey across the street.

"Of course I do. Anyone who says they don't is either an idiot or lying."

I couldn't argue with that.

The kids finally cleared the road and I turned, surprised by what we found. I didn't know what I'd expected Riku's home to look like. I mean, I knew it wouldn't be a red brick residence behind a white picket fence, but the industrial, condemned-looking construction hadn't been likely either.

"You can park around the back," Riku told me.

It wasn't a parking lot so much as a closed-up loading dock. This was getting shadier and shadier. "If I didn't know better, Erickson," I said, "I'd think you were bringing me out here to kill me."

Riku laughed. "You've found me out. Wanna come inside for a little, see my humble abode?"

I shook my head. This was where I needed to draw the line. I'd already stepped way over the fine distinction between teacher and something more personal. "I can't, Riku, I'm sorry."

He frowned. "Why not?"

I opened my mouth to explain, but suddenly realized that I didn't know what to say. How was I supposed to answer without explaining to him that being anywhere private and alone with Riku would be a horrible blow to my already unimpressive self control? So I shrugged, took my key out of the ignition, and followed him around the dingy building, away from where I remember the door being.

There was nothing on the far side but a rusting fire escape and a row of dirty windows about a story up. Riku began to climb without breaking stride, the straining metal groaning ominously under his feet.

I hesitated at the bottom. "Uh…Riku?"

He glanced back over his shoulder, green eyes narrowed in amusement. "I'm on the second floor. This is the only way to get up there. Come on, it's perfectly safe."

"I seriously doubt that," I said, but followed him regardless. Despite my better judgment I was now hopelessly curious about this boy's life. Why he lived in a condemned building downtown, where all that cocksure, electric confidence came from. And, of course, it didn't have anything to do with the awesome view of his ass in those tight jeans as I followed him up the dilapidated fire escape.

"This is the only way in," Riku said (in a tone that could have been apologetic if it had been anyone else speaking) as he slung a leg over the sill of the only open window, disappearing into the gloom. I followed, struggling to get my much larger frame through the window, and chipping off a few flakes of white paint in the process.

"Welcome to my home." Riku's voice came from somewhere off to my left. Curtains were drawn back, letting in bands of dusty sunlight from the windows on either side of the one we'd used as an entrance. The wooden planks groaned beneath my feet as I walked to the center of the room, completely at a loss for words.

Absolutely every inch of the walls was covered in drawings. Animals, flowers, anime, spirals, things that looked nothing more than abstract squiggles. The space between two windows was just one face—a man with glasses and shoulder length hair, done in what looked like charcoal.

Riku was leaning against a closed door at the far side of the room, arms crossed, looking expectant. "Did you do all this?" I asked incredulously.

"Yeah." He shrugged. "My aunt kicked me out about four months ago. I've been living here."

I turned my attention back to the walls, following the branches of a flowering tree that spread out from one of the corners and continued onto the ceiling. "Sora doesn't know."

"Yeah, I'm aware. I never told him." There was something in his voice, something like disappointment, though whether it was disappointment in himself or in Sora, I couldn't tell. Riku brushed his hair out of his face, sighing. "We've been best friends since we were in second grade, but I don't think he'd understand, you know—."

"If he knew the kind of person you really were," I finished for him.

Those startling eyes narrowed. "What kind of person am I, Mr. Leonhart?" he asked, putting a mocking inflection into my name.

"Someone who doesn't care or acknowledge what's expected of him, or what other people think." I could tell it hadn't been the answer he'd been expecting. He was looking at me like he'd only just realized something. He wore an expression of contemplation that I'd never seen before on Riku Erickson's face.

"Come over here," he said after a few moments, turning to open the door behind him, stepping into the next room. I hesitated for a second, then followed. I was already too curious, too taken with this boy to walk away now.

Fuck.

The second room was brighter than the first one—there were more windows, looking out onto the street rather than the shadows of the building next door. The walls were clean of artistic endeavors, but there were several canvasses propped up against them, wild with color.

The first was a swirl of blues and purples, and as I stepped forward to look closer I felt a blow of melancholy. It was like I was feeling Riku's despair, and it was choking.

"That one's shit," Riku said, from somewhere behind me.

"It's not," I said, and left it at that. The second canvass was a close up of a boy's face, and even from the strange angle I could tell it was Sora. The spiky hair and gleaming blue eyes were unmistakable.

"Did he sit for you or did you paint this from memory?" I asked.

"Memory. I've never had anyone sit for me."

I nodded, moving to the next painting. It was of a cityscape, with a bridge that reminded me of Brooklyn, but I didn't think it was New York. Parts of it looked oddly futuristic, others like they'd come marching out of the past.

"Jesus, Riku," I murmured. "These are incredible." I glanced back to see the pleased grin on his face. I didn't think I'd ever seen him look so happy. "Have you shown them to anyone?"

Riku shook his head slowly, silver hair glinting in the dusty afternoon light. "Just you."

I frowned, trying to understand what the subtext of that was meant to be. I looked back at the cityscape. That one was by far my favorite.

"So what do you think?"

"I already told you, I think they're incredible."  
"No, not the paintings." He suddenly looked vulnerable, younger somehow. "You said you I don't care what people think about me, but I do care. At least, about what some people think."

I looked at him, really studied him for the first time. Just a passing glance at Riku Erickson would reveal that he was ridiculously beautiful. But buried beneath the beauty was just a great big teeming vat of misery. He was surviving, and that in itself was impressive, but he wasn't happy.

I sighed, leaning back against the ominously groaning wall and crossing my arms. "As an adult and a role model, Riku, I would say I think you're an idiot for living on your own, and for thinking that a silly thing like art could ever support you."

Riku nodded, eyes on the floor, jaw set. This was the popular opinion, I could see it in his face.

"But as a friend and a philosopher, I think you could be doing a lot worse."

The frown dominating Riku's face slowly dissipated, until I was just being scrutinized with that piercing green gaze. He dropped his eyes to the floor, hair shadowing his expressing. "Alright. Thanks."

I stepped away from the paintings, surveying the rest of the studio. There was a futon in one corner, covered with a ratty looking quilt and luridly colored afghan. A sink and eighties refrigerator with the freezer door hanging slightly askew were the only other pieces of furniture. Curious, I opened the fridge. It was empty apart from a dented box of cornflakes, a jar of peanut butter, and several different species of mold. It was as warm inside as it was in the rest of the studio.

"Do you have electricity?" I asked, closing the fridge and straightening up.

Riku shook his head. "No. No hot water either."

"Jesus."

He shrugged. "I'm a squatter. As long as I have somewhere to sleep, I don't give a shit."

"Where do you shower?" It was out of my mouth before I stopped to think about what it would sound like.

Riku cracked a grin, that familiar smirk he wore whenever I said something he could misinterpret into an innuendo. He inclined his head toward the sink, and I noticed the bottle of generic-brand shampoo and the rough-looking scrub brush.

"Right there. I take off all my clothes and rub myself all over. Wanna see?"

I gave him a disapproving glance. He laughed. "Well, there you have it, Teach. The secret intricacies of Riku Erickson's life. Glamorous, ain't it?"

I nodded, not really listening as he went on about how there was somewhere he needed to be. I said bye at the top of the fire escape, climbing down the rickety metal construction to my car.

* * *

I drove home on autopilot, thinking about Riku Erickson, and all the things he called to memory. Meeting him had brought countless other things to the surface—things I hadn't thought about in years. I'd had crazy aspirations back then, things that included the guitar and music, not suits and parent-teacher conferences.

I realized I was gay when I was about thirteen. Of course, I'd felt stirrings before then—male teachers I liked just a little to much, attraction to the sexy hero in movies. Aladdin had always been my favorite Disney character—maybe that was where my thing for ethnic men stemmed from. I'd always loved dark-skinned guys—which made the fact I was currently with Cloud pretty damn ironic, with his blue eyes and gold-blond hair.

My first real crush, as I was saying, had been when I was thirteen—on my sister's boyfriend. Aeris had been fairly typical, as straight, pretty white girls went. Thin, giggly, and pink. She'd worn a lot of pink. Most of her boyfriends had been just as freeze-dried as her—the jocky, macho type, but then one day she'd brought home a street guitarist.

I remember him so clearly it's almost ridiculous. His skin was the color of warm chocolate, hair tied into dozens of shoulder-length dreads, each one strung with a shiny gold bead. He never wore anything that covered his arms, and the sight of that corded muscle had always made my stomach clench.

Michael had been a high school drop out, four years older than my seventeen year old sister. Our dad had been absolutely horrified, by his age, the fact that he made his money by playing music out on the street, and (though Dad never would have admitted it) the face that Michael was black. My father wasn't a racist, at least, not until a black man tried to lay hands on his daughter. It was awful, but now that I thought on it, I couldn't really blame him. He'd been brought up in a different era, with different expectations.

The afternoon light was just beginning to go grey with the approaching twilight. I took the long way home—back roads instead of the highway. I always though the best when I was driving, and I knew that as soon as I saw Cloud we'd be all over each other. We only had a week together before I left for school, and I was feeling strangely hungry for human contact at the moment.

The trees cast latticed shapes onto the street in front of the car as my thoughts drifted back to my thirteen year-old self again, remembering the first time I'd seen Michael. He'd been playing his guitar in the living room when I'd got home from school, strumming out the cords to _No Woman No Cry, _and singing along. I'd stood frozen in the doorway, trying to decide who the hell this man was and why I couldn't take my eyes off him.

_I remember when we used to sit, _

_In the government yard in trenchtown. _

_And then Georgie would make the fire lights_

_And it was logwoods burning through the night. _

He smiled at me, strumming out the last cord. "Hey, Aeris. There's a confused looking kid's just come in. Should I be worried?" He had just the slightest tinge of Jamaica left in his voice.

Aeris came around the corner and laughed. "That's my brother. Squall, this is Michael."

Michael shook my hand very seriously, looking thoughtful. "Squall. That's a thunderstorm, ain't it?"

His hand was warm, the fingertips calloused from the guitar pick. I had to try several times before I was able to get the word out. "Y-Yeah."

Michael smiled, revealing incredibly white teeth. "I like it. You Indian, boy?"

Aeris laughed again. "Good call. His mom was part Cherokee."

I pulled myself out of thoughts of the past as I pulled into the driveway. I put the car in park, shutting down the engine. I sat there for a couple of moments, taking deep breaths, just letting it all flow through me. It had been one hell of a weird day. I flipped down the car visor, surveying myself in the mirror. My eyes looked almost shockingly grey in the twilight, and I searched for the parts of me that immortalized my dead mother. My sharp cheekbones, dark, oddly-textured hair.

I sighed, climbing out of the car and crunching my way up the gravel walk to the house. It was unlocked, and as soon as I opened the door, the smell of cooking hit me in the face and I realized how hungry I was.

Cloud was in the kitchen, back turned to me, sautéing something on the stove. I slipped my arms around his waist, kissing him on the back of the neck.

"Hey gorgeous."

He chuckled, sound quickly becoming a giggle as I licked along the sensitive place beneath his ear. He shrugged his way out of my arms.

"Stop it, Leon. I can't cook with a hard-on."

"Sure you can." I kissed his neck one last time, before letting him go. "Anything I can do?"

"Set the table, maybe uncork the wine so it can breathe."

"Alright."

We sat down to eat a few minutes later, lights turned down, legs brushing beneath the table. I realized I would miss this, miss this a lot when we went our separate ways. But even as we finished up dinner, and Cloud's touches began to get more suggestive, I couldn't keep the image of silvery hair and shining green eyes out of my head.

* * *

Hoped you liked. Thanks for all the reviews I've been getting! This is a weird story, and a not-so-popular pairing, so…we'll see what happens.

See you next time!


	4. As The World Falls Down

Wow, guys. Thanks for all the reviews! I'm so glad so many people are into this story, especially since it's not the most popular pairing.

And, oh my god, I am so, so sorry this took so fucking long. I've been writing a lot for _Spring Kink, _an LJ community. Check it out, there's good writing and tasty smut.

I promise the next chapter will not take so long to get up.

Chapter 4 

As the World Falls Down

* * *

When Cloud and I had got together, neither of us had been virgins. We'd both had previous long-term relationships. We were looking for a roommate, not a lover.

That had been blown to hell, of course, due to Cloud's wandering hands and my complete and utter inability to control myself when a gorgeous and naked man stepped into the shower with me and started licking my ear.

I wasn't in love with Cloud Strife. He was a great guy; intelligent and sexy, but it had just never clicked. Not completely

I called him my boyfriend. It was classier than 'fuck-buddy'. Sometimes even 'partner' if I was in mixed company. Which wasn't all that often. If I wasn't at school, I was most likely at home. Cloud and I weren't exactly the kind of guys who went out and did stuff.

Still, I'd miss him when I left for grad school.

The lamp was turned off, the only light in the room was a luminous digital clock and the soft blue glow of a charging cellphone. Cloud and I lay in bed, thighs brushing, his head pillowed on my shoulder. It wasn't even ten o'clock yet, but I was exhausted. Way too many things had happened today, way too much information to process. Besides, I liked waking up early on the weekend.

Cloud ran a lazy hand over my stomach, drawing slow circles on my abs, tracing the curves of my hipbones. It made something tremble deep in my belly, even though my body was still glutted with afterglow.

"We never did this often enough," he spoke quietly, breath whispering on my neck.

"What, fuck?"

He let out a shuddery laugh. "No, just relax, I mean." He kissed the curve of my jaw.

A few seconds of silence ticked by, as I let my hands drift through Cloud's spiky hair.

"I'm leaving on Sunday." He said it to the ceiling. "I'm moving out."

I didn't know what I was supposed to say to that. Should I cry, beg him to stay? We'd talked about this before, resolved it. I was going for my Master's Degree four hours away, and he was staying here.

"You know I'm not leaving for another three weeks, right?"  
"I know," he said, still not looking at me. "But I've found another place to live, and I though it'd just be best. You know, to get it over with?"

"Yeah. I understand."

He kissed me again, hands moving over my body, as if trying to memorize every last inch of me, before it was gone.

* * *

I walked on Saturday. 

Through the neighborhood, to Radiant Garden Park, around the lake twice. It had cooled off overnight, coaxing families out onto the picnic tables, sending children swarming over the playgrounds. A group of High School age girls gave me admiring looks as I walked by, giggling to each other behind their hands. I could feel their eyes on my back as I continued up the path or, to be more accurate, I could feel their eyes on my ass. It's what I get for wearing tight jeans.

I was no stranger to admiring looks, from men and women alike. It had started toward the end of high school. I'd been a really awkward looking kid, with feet and hands too big for my frame, hair that was always too long and scraggly. I'd never been very effeminate, and I still didn't have the stereotypical traits of the 'modern homosexual'.

I started to work out in the tenth grade, and by senior year I'd managed to acquire the strong, silent, badass reputation that seems to cling to me even now, almost ten years later. I doubt I could shake it even if I'd wanted to.

My feet took me across town, through three districts until, by late afternoon, I found myself at the one place I should never set foot in again.

Riku's building looked even bleaker on a clear day, when the sun picked out the rust and decay, revealing the dull gray color of the cement walls. I wondered if he was home, if he'd want to see me, if he'd eaten anything today. Or yesterday, for that matter. Taken care of himself. I also wondered if I could fool myself into thinking my only interest in Riku was a teacher's concern for the well-being of his student, and not an older man's pederastic fascination with a boy.

"Are you going to stand there all day and consider?"

I looked up, my heart doing a funny little tap dance in my chest. Riku was hanging out the open window, looking amused. I felt heat rise to my face, which made me practically want to cry with shame. Hardly _anything_ could make me blush.

"Come on up, it's cool. I'll set out some tea and biscuits." He snorted, drawing his head back in. I climbed up the fire escape and it may have just been me, but it felt even more rickety than it had the day before.

I pulled myself through the window, nearly skinning my elbow in the process. Riku surveyed me from the middle of the room, surrounded by the black line drawings, looking a little like a work of art himself. He was shirtless, jeans hanging low on his hips, hair pulled back in woman's wide-tooth clip. It shouldn't really have affected me, since I'd seen him practically naked two nights ago, but still, it was difficult to look anywhere else.

"Hey, teach. What's shaking?"

I tried to think of an excuse for standing outside and gazing longingly at his building.

"Can I buy you dinner?"

Riku raised an eyebrow and I almost slapped myself. That had come out badly.

"I mean, can I get you something to eat? Unless you're on a cornflakes and mold diet?"

Riku looked at me like I was a lunatic.

"Your fridge. There's nothing in there but mold and cornflakes."

He laughed. "Oh. Yeah. No, sure, I'd love to go eat with you. But…" He gave me a slow smirk, the one only Riku Erickson could pull off. "Don't you have a boyfriend?"

"Yes." No, not really. "But this isn't a date." Though I'd like it to be. "I'm your teacher, Riku." Who wants to fuck you against a wall. "I'm just helping you out." And will probably go to hell for it.

From the way he was looking at me, I was worried I'd spoken all of it out loud.

"Let me get dressed," he grinned, heading for the back room, leaving me with no company but the phantoms of his imagination scrawled across the walls.

"Where's your car?" Riku asked, when we'd clambered back down the groaning metal fire escape. He'd let his hair down and put on a deep red muscle tank that looked good against the silver.

"I walked here," I answered sheepishly. It meant we'd have to walk wherever we were going.

"Wow," Riku commented. "You came all this way just for little old me? I'm flattered."

"I was on a walk," I protested, and I'm sure it sounded as lame to him as it did to me.

Riku shrugged. "Whatever. I'm glad you came by. I was bored as fuck."

"Where's Sora?"

"With his girlfriend." He didn't seem to pleased by the thought.

"I didn't know he had a girlfriend." I leaned back against the bricks, shoving my hands into my pockets. "So where do you want to eat?"

Riku shrugged again. "There's an okay noodle place about two blocks up. If you don't mind chopsticks and waiters who barely speak English."

"Sounds alright to me."

There was a man wearing an oversized blazer on the street corner. He had bleached orange hair and a spiked collar. He swaggered up to us, pulling back the blazer and shoving his arm in my face. It was covered wrist to elbow with an assortment of expensive-looking watches.

"Hey, man. Wanna buy a watch? I got 'em real cheap, dude, right here."

Riku gave the orange haired guy a look that could have made a Mafia Boss curl up and shiver. "Fuck off, asshole. We don't want that knock-off shit."

He grabbed my wrist and tugged me across the cross-walk, fuming like a mother hen. The wind caught up with us in the center of the street, whipping his hair up into a silver frenzy. I shook him off when we reached the curb.

"Thanks for that back there, Riku, but I'm a big boy. I can take care of myself."

Riku turned around, a hand on his hip. "Oh yeah? Did you happen to notice he was going for your wallet?"

"What?"

"He was going to pickpocket you," Riku said, looking half disgusted, half extremely pleased with himself. "I saved your wallet."

I looked back across the crosswalk, just in time to see the watch-seller stick his hand into the back pocket of a flustered looking balding man. I cracked a grin, wondering if I should warn the poor bastard.

"Hey, this way," Riku said, pointing and making up my mind for me.

The noodle shop was exactly as he'd described it. No forks, angry Asian people, and some of the best Lo Mien I'd ever tasted. I felt surprisingly comfortable sitting there, eating with Riku. He sat with his head propped back against the front window, fading afternoon light shining off his hair, making his eyes look haunting. He held his chopsticks delicately, in his left hand. Halfway through the meal he switched to his right.

"Are you ambidextrous?" I asked, wrapping noodles around my chopsticks with a flick of my wrist.

He gave me a blank look. "What?"

I held my hands up. "You can write with both hands."

Riku looked down at his hand as if just realizing it was there. "Yeah, I guess. I never really noticed before. I paint with both hands too."

Riku ate his lo mien really fast, and then finished mine off as soon as I mentioned I was full. He wasn't a slob about it, but I could tell he hadn't had a square meal in awhile.

About halfway through dinner he said, "So, how did you meet your boyfriend?"

I nearly choked on my coke. "What?"

Riku's eyes went wide, in what he obviously thought was innocence. "How did you meet what's-his-face?"

"Cloud," I intoned.

"Yeah, Cloud. He's hot."

I felt like hitting myself. This was absolutely not a conservation I should have been having with my student. Especially not a gay, sexy student with delinquent tendencies.

Riku, apparently, knew exactly what it was that was going through my head. He put his chopsticks down, and propped his chin up on a fist. The neon 'open' sign on the front window flickered on, turning the crown of his hair a deep red.

"Look, Leon. I know you think you shouldn't be hanging out with me because I'm your student. But we're not in school right now—."

"That doesn't matter, Riku. I'm still your teacher, and you're still seventeen."

"Meaning I'm old enough to think for myself."

I wasn't exactly sure what we were arguing about. We weren't really arguing at all. More like we were pouring out all the worries we possessed concerning each other, the worries we shouldn't have had at all. I was Riku's teacher. The extent of my interest in him should have been whether or not he did his philosophy homework, whether he came to class. This was just too much.

Because I knew, if Riku did what those shining green eyes were saying, I would be helpless. If he made a move, I wouldn't be able to resist. We both knew it. I wanted him, had wanted him since I'd seen him laid out on a dirty couch in the back of a nightclub.

* * *

I didn't go home Saturday night. I checked into a motel about three miles away from the house. 

If I had gone back, what would have happened? Would Cloud have slept in his own room, the one that he'd originally been intending to rent out from me, or would we have shared a bed one last time? I couldn't have done it, couldn't have laid there knowing that the next day he would be gone.

The alarm didn't go off the next morning, even though I'd set the night before. That's what I got for staying in such a crappy place, I guess. When I got back to the house it was nearly half-past eleven, and there was a car in the driveway, parked behind mine. I didn't pretend to be a connoisseur of the luxury vehicle, but I knew a BMW when I saw one.

I didn't know anyone who owned something like that, and I hadn't thought Cloud did either, but obviously I'd been wrong, because its owner was currently coming down my front steps, carrying two of Cloud's big blue suitcases. He popped the trunk on the car without even giving me a glance.

"Excuse me?"

The man finished hauling in the suitcases before turning around. "Yes? Can I help you with something?" He took of his sunglasses, and a little noise of surprise escaped me. His coloring was nearly identical to Riku's—long, beautiful silver hair and bright green eyes. He was dressed casually, but the quality of the clothes gave off a well-made, expensive air.

I jerked my head toward the house. "I live here."

The confusion melted off his face. "Leon?"

"Yeah, that's me," I said, still not exactly certain what was going on.

The man offered me a hand. "I'm Sephiroth. Cloud's…friend."

Friend. I heard the hesitation, and I knew what he had been going to say.

Boyfriend. Cloud's boyfriend. Because I had just been a pleasant distraction.

"Nice to meet you," I said. "Is Cloud…?"

Sephiroth arched his neck toward the house. "He's just getting the last of his things."

I folded my arms across my chest. "So he's moving in with you?"Sephiroth nodded. "Yes. Are you the roommate who's moving to Twilight Town?"

Roommate. Yeah, a roommate who licks your balls.

"Yeah. I'm going for my Masters."

"Sorry, I just had to grab…"

Cloud trailed off when he saw me. He was carrying a duffel and the electric fan from our—my—bedroom. He attempted to pass off the awkward moment as a cough.

"Hey, Leon," he said, as brightly as he could, though there was something frightened and trembling behind his eyes. Sephiroth must have noticed it as well, because as soon as he was within range, he pulled Cloud close and kissed him on the temple. I saw his body visibly relax. He gave Sephiroth the kind of look he'd never given me, something deep and intense, the sort of thing cheesy love songs are written about.

Sephiroth took duffel and fan, packing them in the trunk with the rest of the stuff. Cloud turned to me slowly, hesitantly, as if he was really thinking better of it. In one weekend, I'd gone from fuck buddy to painful duty.

"Take care of yourself, Leon," he said, reaching for me. I didn't know if he wanted to hug me or shake my hand, maybe give me one last good grope. I just stood there, arms crossed. After a moment he let his hand fall to his side.

"We should get going, babe," Sephiroth said, slamming the trunk shut. "I don't want to hit traffic on the beltway."

Cloud nodded, giving me one last smile. "Good luck in Twilight Town, Squall."

I watched the car drive away, feeling like a hole had opened up in my chest.

* * *

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	5. Cause And Effect

Take two: Fanfiction fucked up on me--it posted the wrong chapter and aalkhdsfhkaldhfkalshg. Sorry about that.

Wow, this is so late it's not even funny. Slaps self Sorry about the wait, my friends.

Some of the scenes practically wrote themselves, and some had me pulling out my hair in frustration.

Chapter 5

Cause And Effect

* * *

Sunday afternoon, I didn't stop myself from thinking of Riku.

I let it happen, let my mind wander to his eyes, his arms, the curve of his back. The way those perfect lips curled into a smirk just begging to be fucked. All the different ways I'd like to take him—up against a wall, over a desk with his ass in the air…

I thought about him as I made dinner, methodically chopping up mushrooms and garlic, and onions that made my eyes burn and tear. Though I wasn't _completely _inept with the culinary arts, Cloud had always been in charge of the kitchen. But he wasn't here anymore.

After I ate I sat in front of the TV, cycling through the two hundred or so channels, searching for something to catch my interest. I flicked past a rerun of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, just in time to see Sarah Michelle Geller begin to take her shirt off. I kept going. Anorexic blonde women were not a few of my favorite things. American Gladiator was on NBC, but men on steroids never did it for me. I finally settled on House for a few minutes, but for some reason Hugh Laurie just couldn't hold my attention that night.

I hit the power button. The TV flickered off in a burst of white static. I tossed the remote onto the coffee table, tipping my head back, rotating my shoulders against the couch cushions. I was sore from my night in one of the shittiest hotel beds I'd ever encountered. If Cloud had been here, he would have taken care of it for me. He would have made me lie down flat on our bed, worked the stiff muscles of my neck, kneaded his thumbs into the aching spots beneath my shoulder blades.

I closed my eyes, trying to recall the feeling as I rubbed at the knot at the base of my neck. But instead of Cloud, my mind kept conjuring up Riku, spiky blond hair becoming long, gleaming silver, blue eyes turning green, hands shrinking. In my fantasy, Riku straddled my hips, touching me all over, loosening the muscle in my back until I was nothing but shuddering warmth and contentment.

The thoughts persisted all the way upstairs and into the shower, where I turned the water up to just below scalding, turning my back into the spray. My body shivered with pleasure as the stiff muscles reacted to the heat. I wasn't able to hold out very long before I coated my hand in soap, dragging it down my body and wrapping it around the erection I'd had since I started thinking about Riku.

I tried to take my time, but as soon as I started I couldn't slow down, hand sliding over my slick skin as I imagined Riku on his knees in front of me. It was so wrong on so many levels. Imagining my seventeen year old student sucking my cock, but I couldn't stop it. No one could arrest you for thoughts, right? I just had to make certain I never did it in the real world.

"You look like crap."

* * *

I opened one eye. Riku stood on the other side of my desk, looking much too awake for seven in the morning. My eye snapped closed.

"Riku, there's still two minutes until class starts. Let me sleep."

He laughed. "Alright."

I opened my eyes just enough to watch him kick his bag beneath his back-row desk, slinging himself casually into the seat. His hair was pulled back today and he hadn't worn any eyeliner, leaving his face looking strangely bare, but no less beautiful.

The bell rang, four short electronic beeps issuing from the loudspeakers. It didn't really sound much like a bell at all.

The babble died down by degrees, as I had known it would.

In the meantime, it gave me more of a chance to mope.

I hadn't gotten much sleep the previous night, which was most likely the reason behind Riku's greeting this morning. I'd never have admitted it to his face, but it was next to impossible to get comfortable without Cloud next to me. Or anyone, for that matter. The presence of a another body, the sound of someone else's breath, the warm haziness of afterglow.

I sighed, leaning my elbows on my desk and schooling my face into an expression of disinterest.

I looked up, hit square in the face by Riku's gaze, bright green and smoldering, daring me to do…something. I didn't let myself ponder on what it might be.

"Good morning. How was everyone's weekend?" I asked.

I got a few scattered, unenthusiastic 'fines' and 'greats', one sarcastic 'transcendent'.

Axel raised his hand from his seat in the second row. "I got laid."

"How nice of you to mention it," I commented faintly, crossing my arms. "Is it such a rare occurrence that you need to announce it?"

There was a chorus of, "Ohhh," from the class.

Axel just smirked, turning around and looking straight at another student, a small, aloof blond boy named Roxas.

"Nope, not rare," Axel said, positively leering at the kid. Roxas colored, looking determinedly down at his notebook.

Axel and Roxas? They were screwing? Was absolutely _everyone _in my classes gay?

What a stellar influence I was.

"One more word about Axel's sex life and I think I'll need to go home sick," Penelo, a pretty sophomore with pigtails, commented. She raised her hand. "Mr. Leonhart, may I please go to the nurse?"

The class laughed, and I had to work harder than usual to maintain my icy stare. "No, Penelo, you may not. Don't give him the satisfaction. If we ignore him, maybe he'll go away."

Axel raised a bright red eyebrow, beginning to pack his things away, calling my bluff.

"However, he'll also fail the course if he skips one more day."

Axel rolled his eyes, dropping back into his seat. "Yes, master."

"That's what I like to hear," I said. "Alright, did anyone do the reading?" Every hand in the room went up.

"Okay, next question. How many of you actually _understood _the reading?" Several hands went down. "Who thinks they could explain Hume's idea in this passage?" More hands down. There were only a few left, and I could have predicted most of them without even having to ask. It was always the same three students: Kairi, Olette, and Pence. And, this time, Riku.

Color me floored. Riku had never even paid attention in class before, much less volunteered information.

"Mr. Erickson?" I said. Shock registered on the faces of the class. Several people turned in their seats, looking back. Riku bore their glances with the same cool, casual finesse he treated everything with.

"The chapter describes Hume's view on causation. He claimed that cause and effect don't really exist." Riku spoke with a certainness that suggested a great deal of confidence in his words. When he went, he went all the way. For a teacher in a class without a textbook, without solid answers, without a standard to set student work against, it was a goddamn dream come true.

"Can you give me an example of this, Riku?" I said. "You know, for those of us who were too busy getting laid to do the reading."

There was an appreciative murmur of laughter, and a look of mild satisfaction from Axel. Roxas was still staring down at his philosophy book. If he kept it up much longer I wouldn't have been surprised if he burned a hole through it.

Riku drummed his fingers on his desk. "Like…like the idea that everyone has of what happens whenever you throw a rubber ball at the floor. Cause and effect state that the ball would bounce back up, but Hume claimed that there wasn't any reason the ball couldn't just…turn into a monkey." A couple people laughed. I smiled. That was one way to describe it. "Hume said that things happening wasn't cause and effect, it was just one thing happening right after another, so people just assumed one was the cause of the other."

"And what phrase did Hume use for this?" I asked, glancing toward Kairi, who's hand had shot up the moment the question left my mouth. "Yes, miss Hill?"

"Constant conjunction."

"That's right."

--

The rest of the day went along without too much deviation. After his initial contribution to the discussion, Riku had pretty much settled back into his usual routine. Sit at the back of the class, volunteer no information, and draw. When I passed out that unit's essay test at the end of the block, he took one cursory glance at the assignment, made a face, and shoved it into his bag.

As per normality, he was the first one out when the bell rang, pausing only to give me a saucy wink. I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't deny the tightening in my belly.

By the time the final bell rang I was exhausted, but there were essays I still had to grade from the last unit. If there was one thing I hated, it was a teacher who expected his students to turn things in on time, but took for damn ever to grade anything. I expressed that hatred to my classes at length, and I didn't want to be a hypocrite.

If I was honest with myself, I dawdled with the grading, with packing my things up, with the walk to the parking lot. There wasn't anyone waiting for me and, as much as I hated to admit it, I wasn't looking forward to going home to an empty house.

It had darkened outside, a tumble of storm clouds clogging the sky, ratcheting the temperature up even further. The air was muggy and thick, and it stuck to my throat as I walked toward the parking lot.

I'd just fished my keys out of my pocket, when the sound of a familiar voice managed to reach me through the fetid air.

"I'm not gonna stand here and let you lecture me, Sora, you are not my mother!"

They were standing beside a bright blue Honda, one of the last cars in the student parking lot. Riku's face was bright pink with anger and sweat stood out on his forehead. He looked exhausted. Sora was standing on the curb, high enough so that he and Riku were almost the same height.

"I'm not lecturing you! I'm just trying to help." Sora leaned forward when he spoke, lifting off his heels, balancing on the edge of the curb. "I'm just trying to be your friend!"

"You're my _best_ friend, Sora," Riku said, but it sounded tired, stale, like he was reciting. Honestly, it looked like he just needed to go home and pass out.

"Why were you flirting with Mr. Leonhart?" The question came out of nowhere, and Riku looked nearly as shocked as I felt. I knew this wasn't something I had any right to listen to—it should stay between them—but after hearing my name, I couldn't resist.

Like I've said before, I don't have much willpower.

"I can flirt with anyone I want," Riku snapped, with a little more vehemence than the situation deserved. Sora took a step back in surprise.

"I-I know you can. It's just, he's a teacher and I don't want you—."

"To get raped? To have my virtue taken?" Riku laughed. It wasn't a pleasant sound. "Sorry to disappoint you, Sora, but it's a little too late for that. See you later."

Riku slung his bag over his shoulder, turning around and nearly tripping up the curb. I watched his face flush further with embarrassment, but he shook it off, pretending nothing was wrong. He left Sora with his mouth half-open, looking like he'd just been slapped across the face. I couldn't blame the kid—Riku had that effect on people. Even straight guys, it seemed. He stared after the silver-haired boy for a few seconds, before he snapped his mouth shut and climbed into his car. There was a definite angry set to his jaw when he turned the key and pulled out of the parking lot.

I should have booked it out of there right now, but then of course I had to see  
Riku's face, that beaten, lost-puppy look. So, against all my better judgment, I called his name.

"Riku!"

He jumped, which just went to show how trashed he was. He was never usually this twitchy.

"Jesus, Leon, you scared the shit out of me."

"Sorry," I said, scratching the back of my head, feeling awkward. He knew I'd been listening, I could see it in his face. I struggled for something to say, something to justify my calling him over.

Do you need a ride home?"

I offered before I could stop and rationalize. I'd been doing way too much of that lately.

Riku started to shake his head, changed his mind halfway through, and nodded.

"Yeah, that'd be nice," he said, in a thin, tired sort of voice.

My car was parked at the edge of the staff lot. Our spaces weren't reserved, so whoever managed to haul their ass here first got the good spots. I was not one of those ass-haulers.

"Is everything alright?" I asked, hitting the unlock button on my keys.

Riku slid into the passenger seat, making an ambivalent motion with his shoulders. "It's whatever," he said. "It's not any of his business what I do."

It was hotter than hell inside the car, and I could already feel my shirt sticking to the leather of the seat. I switched the air conditioning on as fast as humanly possible, but all it did for the first few minutes was blow recycled hot air at us.

Campus Drive was backed up, more so than usual. There must have been on accident on the main road a couple miles ahead of us.

"You look exhausted," I said at last, when it began to look as if traffic wouldn't be thinning out anytime soon. The awkward silence was nearly giving me hives. At least the AC had finally kicked into gear, blasting cold, compressed air into my face.

Riku tipped his head back, sighing through his nose. "I'm fine. Just tired."

I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel. "You seemed pretty chipper this morning."

He angled one of the vents toward himself, pushing his sweaty bangs out of his face. "Yeah, well, that was this morning."

Alright, we were going to play the teenage angst game. I could deal with that. After all, I sure as hell needed a distraction from the fact that once again I was going home to an empty house. An empty bed.

"What happened?" I asked, as traffic began to move again--for at least five seconds.

Riku shrugged. " Sora found out I'd been living in that old studio and freaked out about it."

"I think I missed that part," I admitted, sheepish.

"Yeah, well, it wasn't too exciting."

"Sora's just worried," I said, though even I know how trite it sounded. I was feeding Riku exactly the same bullshit my parents had given me when I was his age--

_"Everything will be alright." _

_"It's for your own good." _

_"Why in god's name do you have to be so _difficult_?" _

"Yeah, just worried about his faggot, homeless best friend." The bitterness in his voice was thick enough to taste. I quickly steered my thoughts away, as the words 'Riku' and 'taste' in the same sentence would lead nowhere good.

"I'm sorry," I said quietly, because I couldn't think of anything else.

"Yeah, you and the rest of the world. " He stared out the window for a few moments, but there was nothing to look at but a thin strip of brown grass by the roadside. Broken glass glittered in the afternoon sunlight. The traffic was slow enough for me to read the labels on the empty soda cans.

"I'm just tired," he reiterated.

--

When I pulled up in front of Riku's building, for one bewildered moment I thought I'd gone to the wrong place. The loading bay was already full of cars—two police cruisers and a sleek black Lexus.

What was with all the luxury vehicles lately?

"What the fuck?" Riku said, eyes widening as he realized what was propped up against the brick wall. His paintings—the portraits, the cityscape, the weird, swirly abstract. There was a policewoman descending the rickety fire escape, looking overheated in her dark uniform.

"Hey!" Riku opened the door and jumped out before I'd even stopped the car. "What the fuck do you think you're doing? Those are mine! This is my—."

His words broke off like they'd been forced back down his throat. Someone else had emerged from the broken window. He was clean-cut and professional in a dark, expensive-looking suit, shoes so shiny I could have checked my reflection in the leather. The heat didn't appear to be affecting him—he looked crisp and fresh as he descended the fire escape.

"Riku," he said, when he had his feet on the ground.

"Dad," Riku responded, voice stilted.

The man smiled a lawyer's smile, a businessman's smile. The sort of smile that exercised the jaw muscle without really meaning anything. His hair was the same shining, touchable silver as his son's, pulled back pristinely.

"What are you doing here?" Riku asked. His breathing was coming quick and shallow. He was blinking rapidly, as if willing himself not to cry.

His father arched an eyebrow, a gesture that was startlingly familiar to his son's. "Do I need an excuse to visit my only child?"

"Maybe other dads don't, but you do."

The man smiled again, odd orange eyes settling on me.

"And you are...?" He spoke to me like I'd intruded on something personal--as if this was his air, and he'd granted me permission to breathe it.

"A friend," Riku answered swiftly, before I could open my mouth.

"Is that so?" His father stepped forward, offering me an elegant hand. "I am Xemnas Erickson. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr...?"

"Leonhart." We shook hands.

"Out of pure curiosity, Mr. Leonhart, how old are you?"

I couldn't blame him for asking. If my son had been hanging out with a guy a decade older than him, I'd be a little suspicious too.

"He's twenty-six," Riku said.

"Twenty-seven," I corrected automatically. "I'm your son's philosophy teacher."

"Indeed?" Xemnas Erickson looked from me to Riku. "Well then, I'm pleased to meet you."

"What are you doing with my stuff?" Riku asked irately, as a man with dreadlocks emerged from the building, carrying the little fridge.

"This building belongs to a business associate of mine," Xemnas explained. "He's agreed to sell it to me, the whole block in fact, for further development, and he mentioned there was a squatter problem." His lips curled downward in a little frown. "Imagine my surprise when I came out here and discovered your..." He glanced over his shoulder at the paintings. "--Unique signs of habitation. And here was me thinking you lived with your aunt."

"She's a bitch," Riku snapped out. "And she's always fucking drunk. I'd rather live on the streets than live with her. Or with you," he added, when his father began to speak.

Anger flitted across Xemnas' face, before it smoothed over. He looked like he'd had a great deal of practice.

"You can't just throw squatters out onto the street," I spoke up, wondering if this was such a good idea, and not really caring either way. "As long as the building isn't condemned and just sitting there taking up space."

"But it is condemned," Xemnas responded smoothly. "As of today." He turned those eerie eyes Riku. "And you'll be coming home with me. To Washington."

* * *

Yup, Riku's daddy is Xemnas!! That slimy bastard.


	6. Watergate

Chapter 6

Watergate

I know, it's taken for fucking ever. It's what happens when you have a job and about five hundred and eighty six gazillion other writing projects to work on. Dies

On the bright side, my original slash story The Poisoner's Ring has been nominated in two categories for round six of the Some Kind of Wonderful Romance awards. Search for The Poisoner's Ring on fictionpress if you would like to read it (I think there's also a link on my profile) . Voting begins on Saturday, July 12, and I am going to link to it from all my profile pages and things.

* * *

Riku laughed. It was one of the most horrible, hopeless things I'd ever heard.

"Like hell I am!" It looked like every muscle in his body was clenched. It probably wasn't very comfortable. "I'm seventeen, I'm old enough to make my own decisions."

Xemnas sighed, shaking his head. I got the feeling they'd had this conversation before. "No matter how mature you may think you are--." He paused for effect, little sneer still hovering on his lips. "Unfortunately, United States law doesn't agree with you. You are a child for another eight months, and I have had enough with this stubbornness of yours. My conditions were you could live with your aunt if you could behave yourself. I come back to find not only are you a delinquent, but you haven't even been living with your aunt, you've been living in some shithole studio apartment!."

Riku folded his arms, looking petulant. "It's not a shithole," he protested. "It's got character." I snorted, though I managed to turn it into a sneeze. His father sighed.

"We can discuss it later, if you're going to be this difficult. It's too warm out here," he commented. "Will you at least have dinner with me?"

Riku looked suspicious. "Just you?"

Xemnas made a dismissive gesture with his hand. "Me, some associates of mine."

"Shit, dad," Riku said. "Your associates always make me want to shoot someone in the head. They're always a bunch of boring fuckers who ask me if I've met any nice girls recently. And then there was that one guy who grabbed my ass and told me he had a Farari..."

Damn, I was just sneezing all over the placed today.

Xemnas's jaw had tightened. "Let me rephrase that, Riku. You _will_ be coming to dinner with me tonight, or you will be very, very sorry."

"I'm only going if Leon can come too."

I'd been wondering when I'd be dragged into this.

"Riku, no, I can't--."

"Leon?" Xemnas furrowed his brow. "Who is that?"

"I'm Leon," I spoke up awkwardly, wishing I was anywhere but here. "Leonhart.--Leon."

Xemnas pinned his son with those eerie orange eyes. "You're on a first-name basis with your teachers?"

Riku's grin was devilish, and I was almost relieved to see it. "Well, technically, it's a nickname. So we're on a nickname basis. All sort of nicknames Sometimes I even call him Pumpkin."

No, I take it back. I was not happy to see the devilish grin.

His father made an unimpressed sort of noise, though it was drowned out by a rather ill-disguised snicker.

The big man with the dreads had finished turning out all of Riku's shit onto the sidewalk, and was overseeing our conversation with a sort of detached amusement.

"I gotta give it to the kid--he's funny."

Xemnas looked unimpressed. "Thank you, Xaldin. The next time I want your input--."

_I'll ask for it_, I spoke along with him in my head. This guy may have been many things, but original was not one of them.

"Very well," he said at last. "Mr. Leonhart, I'll send a car for you around seven PM." He looked me up and down, a sort of dubious twist to his lips. "Wear a tie. Riku, I don't imagine you own anything formal?"

"Not unless you count my birthday suit," Riku answered, smiling serenely.

Xemnas gave another long-suffering sigh. You would have thought he was the one being Shanghaied into a fancy dinner.

"Get in the car, Riku. We'll have to buy you something before this evening."

RIku went without a fight, giving me a goofy sort of grin when his father wasn't looking. I hoped he understood what my face was saying.

_You're gonna owe me big time, kid_.

--

I went home and graded papers. Or at least, I tried to grade papers. I didn't get very far. My mind kept straying, and I ended up reading the same essay three times before I finally said to hell with it.

The anger on Riku's face when his father had begun ordering him around--it had been awful. Even worse was the fear, the brief moment of panic when his father had come down those steps. He'd looked like cornered animal .

It was quite a revelation--the fact that Riku had a father. He'd never talked about his family before, besides his drunken aunt a few times in passing. I'd always assumed he was an outcast by necessity, not by choice. How horrible did life have to get before Maryland?

Pretty damn awful.

I'd gained new respect for the little bastard.

I gave up on the papers around six o'clock, going upstairs for a shower. It was hot enough in the house that I left the water at lukewarm. Standing in the spray with my face turned up to the nozzle, I thought about Cloud's half-joking plans to install a huge, jacuzzi style tub in one of the bedrooms we didn't use. He'd always been annoyed that the bath wasn't big enough to fit us both at the same time.

It was stifling enough in my bedroom that I just lay down naked on the bed, letting myself air dry, combing the tangles out of my hair with my fingers, and wondering how I'd managed to be roped into this little outing. I'd replayed the conversation over and over in my head, and still couldn't find the place where I'd said, "Why, yes, I'd love to come to dinner, Riku's father."

Still, at a quarter past seven I found myself sweating in a suit and tie, standing in front of the hallway mirror and wondering whether my hair would be acceptable. It was getting on past my shoulders, and it didn't exactly scream straight. Oh well. My only other options would be put it up or chop it off, and neither of those were acceptable.

At seven thirty a long, low black car pulled into my street.

"Holy shit," I said.

It was a Rolls Royce. A fucking Rolls Royce. Remember when I said I wasn't a car person, well, even I know a Royce when I see on.

I was out the door before it could honk, locking up behind me, striding sedately across the yard.

The door opened as I reached for the handle.

"Evening," Riku said, lips quirked up. He slid back along the smooth leather bench seat, making room. His suit was coal-black, impeccably crisp, like it had just come off the rack. And thinking back to the conversation with his father, it probably had.

"Hey. You're prompt." The car pulled away from the curb the moment I shut the door.

Riku laughed. "Not me. It's my dad's driver." He jerked a shoulder toward the opaque partition separating the front and back seats. For confidential phone calls, maybe. Or confidential fucks. That thought, coupled with the how absolutely stunning Riku looked in a suit, made me thankful I'd gone with the looser set of trousers.

I still crossed my legs. Just in case.

Riku fell into an elegant slump, resting his arm on the door handle, silver hair spilling like mercury across the black of the leather. His eyes looked grey in the scant light the tinted windows allowed.

"You look gorgeous in that," he commented, eyes roving over me from top to bottom.

I swallowed. I may have been out of my element, but he was still my student, and I was still his teacher. And ten years older than him. I was the one with the power.

Hell. I could barely convince myself.

"Thanks." Accept the compliment and move on. "How was the afternoon with your father?"

Riku rolled his eyes. "Painful. Sure, shopping is fun, but not with your dad breathing down your fucking neck." He smiled. "He kept telling me the pants I picked out were too tight."

"Do you have any idea where we're going?" I asked.

Riku shrugged. "DC, I guess. Maryland isn't swanky enough for dear old dad."

That would have been my guess, since we'd taken the turnpike onto the Capital Beltway, right into the thick of evening traffic. Day or night, weekend or work day, northbound or southbound, the Inner Loop was always the same. A fucking mess.

Riku let out a little whistling chuckle, shaking his head and glancing over at me. "Who would have though it? One day you're driving me home to my abandoned squatter loft, and the next I'm bringing you to dinner in a Rolls Royce."

"I had no idea Xemnas Erickson was your father," I said.

"Oh god." Riku tipped his head back, squeezing his eyes shut. "Don't tell me you've heard of him too.

"Hasn't everyone?" I asked, shrugging. "He's in the paper all the time."

Riku snorted. "Yeah, if you read the stock section."

"I do," I said, trying not to sound too defensive. "I like to know what's going on. Don't you read the news?"

"Not really," Riku chirped. "Maybe the Style Section every so often. But it's not like I get it delivered to my slum."

I supposed that was fair.

"Does your father know you're gay?"

My lips formed the question before I could stop to wonder whether or not it was a good idea. That seemed to be happening a lot lately.

Riku shrugged. "I think so. I mean, it would be kind of difficult to miss. With the way I dress and act and everything," he elaborated after a moment.

"So that wasn't why you ran away from home?"

"Yeah. I ran away because he's a controlling prick who can't stand the idea of a son who doesn't as how high when he tells me to jump." He made a sort of ambiguous gesture with his hands. "I don't think the fact that I suck cock has anything to do with it." The look he cast me dared me to comment on his word use. I didn't.

--

We pulled up at the curb just as the sun began to sink behind the buildings. Across the river, Crystal City shone like a kingdom of ice. It really lived up to its name. The surface of the river was a fiery orange-red, and for a moment it was possible to believe that the Potomac River was something more than a dirty, sluggish channel to the Bay.

I got out of the car quickly, before the chauffer could come around and open the door for me. I wasn't sure if he actually would, but I didn't want to take any chances. I shut the door behind me, looked up, and said—

"Holy shit. This is where we're eating?"

Riku came around the car. He shrugged. "What's the big deal? It's just a hotel." Despite his words, his annoyance was clear in the set of his jaw.

"Yeah, it's a hotel. The Watergate Hotel," I said. "The most expensive place in DC."

"Is that a big deal or something?"

I thought about for a minute. "Not really, no."

Mr. Erickson's business associate met us inside the hotel lobby. He was a small, blond man in a pristine white suit, with an icy blue stare and gym-toned body. Xemnas greeted him like a friend, with a clumsy handshake and a slap on the back. Much to my astonishment, the man extricated himself from an impending conversation with Xemnas in order to offer me his hand.

"Rufus Shinra," he said, one side of his mouth curling into a casual grin.

"Squall Leonhart," I said. The handshake he gave me was much firmer than the one he'd given Xemnas. It was the kind of handshake that meant business and, if his wandering eyes were any indication, I knew exactly what sort of business it was.

Xemnas broke in clumsily. "Mr. Leonhart is, is my son's private tutor." Riku and I exchanged a dubious glance. "Which reminds me…" Xemnas practically dragged Riku over. "This is my son, Riku Erickson."

"Really." I mild flicker of surprise flashed through Rufus Shinra's eyes. He offered his hand and Riku, looking slightly irritated, shook it, letting go incredibly fast. "Your father talks about you quite a bit," he commented dryly. "Let me say, you were not what I was expecting."

"Shall we go in?" Xemnas suggested quickly, with the air of a man who didn't quite know what was going on. A straight guy trying to understand the intricacies of gay body language.

The doors were opened for us as we approached the hotel, great industrial pieces of opaque sheet glass. There was a sign just inside the lobby that read: "gentleman must be properly attired in a dark suit and a tie". Rufus Shinra's suit was sparkling white, and he wasn't wearing a tie, but nobody tried to stop him.

--

There were six of us sitting down for dinner, three of which were bodyguards that had arrived with Shinra. Two of them were men, who couldn't have looked more different if they tried; one was tall and burly, with big hands and a shiny bald head. He wore dark sunglasses that he hadn't taken off when we went inside. His race was hard to pinpoint—Hispanic, maybe, or half-black. The second was skinny to the point of a health risk, with fiery red hair that couldn't have been natural. He had two crescent marks arching along his cheekbones, and I wasn't sure whether they were scars or tattoos. As we sat down, he shot me a saucy wink across the table.

The last was a woman, a tiny blond with her hair cut to just above her shoulders. She was dressed in the same manner as the men, dark pants and a navy blue blazer. She caught me looking at her and shot me a mean sort of glance that said she got it all the time.

Somehow, considering my luck, I was seated exactly where I knew I would be—between Riku and Rufus Shinra. On most days, I loved being surrounded on all sides by gorgeous men, but today, when I was doing my best not to give Xemnas Erickson a reason to have me tried as a child molester, it just made me uncomfortable.

"So," Shinra said, turning to me as soon as we sat down. "You're Riku Erickson's tutor, are you?" I half-expected him to start stroking my thigh, with the way his voice and eyes were behaving. I cleared my throat, but Riku cut in before I could speak.

"Yeah, he is," he said, leaning his chin on his fist. "And he sure is good at what he does." He narrowed his eyes at me, and I managed not to flush, but it was a close thing. Shinra chuckled softly, taking the sip of the wine the waiter had just poured. I tried some of my own. It was good, too good. Expensive good. I sincerely hoped I wouldn't be picking up my check. I guess I could always get Rufus Shinra to pay for me, but he'd probably expect me to put out afterward.

Riku raised his own glass (no one had asked to see an ID) throwing his head back to drink so his neck slender neck and elegant jawline was thrown into perfect profile. Beside me, I felt more than heard Shinra's breath catch.

Across the table, the two male bodyguards were arguing over the translation of a word.

"That means 'snails', Reno," the bald guy kept saying. "I don't care how fancy it sounds. It's still snails."

The redhead, Reno, made a face. "What the fuck is wrong with these French people, yo?" he huffed. "Eating snails. That's downright barbaric." The female bodyguard looked amused, and Xemnas seemed highly annoyed, as if he didn't like the idea of the bodyguards eating with the employer.

Shinra just continued to survey the scene with the same vapid sort of smile.

Xemnas opened his mouth, probably to start a conversation with his business partner, but Riku beat him to it.

"So…Mr. Shinra."

The smirk widened. "Please, call me Rufus."

Riku grinned flirtatiously. "Rufus. How old are you?"

"Riku!" Xemnas hissed. "That is extremely—."

"No worries, Erickson," Shinra said, holding up an elegant hand, though his eyes didn't leave Riku. "I'm twenty four."

Wow. Could have fooled me. He barely looked twenty.

Riku grinned again. "So you _are _younger than Leon.," he gushed, the little bastard. Shinra looked puzzled for a moment.

"Leon?"

"Mr. Leonhart, my tutor," he said.

When the appetizers (clams in a sort of garlic cream sauce) Xemnas finally managed to push on through, and the talk turned to business for awhile. I glanced sidelong at Riku.

"What's with the slutty trick act?" I murmured from the corner of my mouth.

Riku chuckled. "What do you mean, act? I_ am_ a slutty trick."

I made an annoyed sound in my throat. "Yeah, well, watch it, or your new friend Rufus is going to think you want him."

Riku's eyebrows arched. "Yeah? And what if I do?"

I didn't have an answer for that, so I just kept my mouth shut.

--

Damn, did I like this chapter. There's something about Rufus Shinra that just makes me so damn happy. For those of you who aren't familiar with the FF7 canon (though I can't imagine that's very many of you) Rufus is the president of an evil corporation that is sucking life out of the Planet. Reno, Rude, and Elena are part of a sort of spy/bodyguard/assassin group called the Turks.

Oh, and by the way, I believe there is finally gonna be some sex in the next chapter. And hilarity. The sci-fi (remember the sub-genre?) is gonna kick in around chapter eight. I'm excited.


End file.
